I Don't Want to be the Very Best
by Kuroneko99
Summary: It's been years since Ash Ketchum retired from training Pokemon, but he hasn't been able to let go of his glory days. Now me, his daughter, has to go on a journey just as he did. Only one problem, I don't want to be a Pokemon trainer.


I'm a terrible person. I came up with a new story even though I have so many left undone. But this had to be written. This is one of my first Pokemon fics so feedback would be amazing. This is OC so sorry if I got your hopes up. I don't own Pokemon. So please read, enjoy, and review.

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Today You're a Trainer

"Come on! It's time to get up, June! Today's a big day!" I burrowed my head under my pillow, blocking out the over-cheery voice that filled my room. "Come on, June! You have to get up!" Maybe if I pretend I'm dead the voice will go away. I heard that works. Suddenly the sheets were thrown off and I coiled into a defensive ball. So much for sleep. "Get up now, June!"

"Why…?" I muttered, cracking open one eye. Standing over me, looking as rugged as ever, was my dad.

"Because today's the day that you get to start your journey as a Pokémon trainer!" my dad told me enthusiastically. Let me explain: my dad is Ash Ketchum. Most people are like "Oh, that's so cool! He's a Pokémon master!" No, actually he used to be a Pokémon master, but now he's just a middle-aged man who hasn't let go of the glory days of his youth. He wears the same thing that he wore when he was a kid—the running shoes, the jeans, his blue and white jacket, and his hat—only now he's put on the pounds. It's not pretty to see a fat guy wearing kids clothing. It's sad.

"I don't want to be a Pokémon trainer, dad!" I protested and sat up quickly. I glared at him; this wasn't the first time we've had this conversation.

Ever since I was born my dad has been pushing his Pokémon obsession on me. When I was born he even wanted to name me Pikachu after his

favorite Pokémon, but mom told him no. So they settled for June instead—the month I was born. Everything out of dad's mouth is Pokémon this and Pokémon that. Since I could learn to read he's been trying to teach me about all the different kinds of Pokémon. He even gave me an encyclopedia full of all the Pokémon and their moves. What a great birthday gift to give your four year old for her birthday. Some days he will randomly shout "Pikachu I choose you!" or "I'm going to be the greatest Pokémon master." His room is still covered with Pokémon posters and every collectable toy known to man. I think he even proposed to mom by saying "I choose you" and handing her a Pok ball with a ring in it. To some people that might be endearing, but mom accepted it with a forced smile. My dad's eccentricness about Pokémon is what led her to leave him four years ago. I feel bad for him and I miss my mom, but I can understand why she left him. When all my dad does is talk about Pokémon and live in a delusional world that has already passed, it's really hard to handle.

"Really?" He looked perplexed again. Like I said, if it's not Pokémon then my dad has a hard time understanding it. It's amazing he and mom stayed married for ten years. "Well what do you want to be?"

"I want to be a doctor!" I told him, crossing my arms across my chest.

"A Pokémon doctor? I believe nurse Joy can help you," he questioned.

He's still not getting it! "No, dad! I want to be a doctor who treats humans. People!" I told him.

"A doctor who treats people…? I've never heard of anything like that," dad said, shrugging his shoulder. His jacket rose over his muffin top. Ew.

"Of course you haven't…All you care about is Pokémon…" I muttered hotly, growing frustrated the longer I talked to my dad.

"I care about you…" he said sadly and touched my shoulder. For a moment I felt bad for what I said. "Now, you have to go eat breakfast. Today's the day that you chose your first Pokémon and begin your journey of traveling the world and meeting all kinds of Pokémon!" And now I was mad again. How dense could my dad be? It was like talking to a wall. I swear that all he ever heard was the word Pokémon.

"I told you I don't want to! Now get out of my room!" I growled, trying to push dad out of my room. There was no way a thin ten-year-old like myself was going to move this two-hundred pound forty-year-old, but he moved towards the door anyway.

"Ok. I made toast with Oran berry jam," he told me as I shut the door.

"I still don't want to have anything to do with Pokémon I huffed under my breath. I changed quickly into a t-shirt and shorts and tied a blue bandana around my neck—the last birthday present I got from mom while she was here. I looked around my room—not a hint of Pokémon anywhere. This is how it is for normal people. Too bad the rest of the house doesn't look like this. The only thing in my room that had Pokémon in it is the family picture—Pikachu's in that one because dad insisted that he was part of the family. Other than that it was a normal room.

I let out a sigh and stepped out of my room. Waiting in the hallway, sitting on the Pokball-patterned carpet, sat Pikachu.

"Pikachu!" it chirped, looking up at me with adoring eyes. I stared at it, holding back the urge to kick it. Ugh, I hated looking at this electric mouse thing. Yes, if you haven't noticed, I do have a loathing for Pokémon. Dad adores this thing—I could care less.

I brushed past the yellow rat and hurried downstairs. I heard it follow behind me and I shuddered as it ran past me.

"Hello, Pikachu. Hello, June." See that? He greets the rat thing first, not his own daughter. Dad pulled up a seat for Pikachu and set out a bowl with his name on it, right next to me. Great, the rat Pokémon gets a seat—like a person—and its own dish—like a person. At least it has to eat Pokémon food like a Pokémon.

Dad placed the toast with the bluish jam in front of me. I stared at it for a moment as he sat down next to Pikachu, patting the thing behind its pointy ears. He always shows the rat so much attention while I get pestered about Pokémon. I hate it—I shouldn't be jealous of a rat. I just wish that he would talk to me about what I like and that we could do something together that didn't involve Pokémon. But soon he'd make me go down to the lab to pick out my starter Pokémon. And then I'd have to go on this journey, be away from home in strange lands while capturing Pokémon—which I despised. I'd have to forfeit my dream because my dad expected me to and so did the rest of Pallet town. Stupid dad and stupid town tradition of sending off ten-year-olds to become Pokémon trainers.

"So, you know which Pokémon you're going to choose? You remember the three main types, right?" Dad asked.

"Yes, dad," I huffed, nudging my toast with my finger. "Fire, water, grass. I know."

"So do you know which one you're choosing?" he went on.

"No…I don't because I don't want to become a trainer," I said, hoping that maybe dad wouldn't make me go through with this.

"I understand you're nervous. I was nervous too when I set out, but I wanted to become a trainer more than anything so I over came that in order to be a Pokémon master!" Dad began with his speech again about how he had to pick Pikachu since there were no other starters, how he wanted to show up his rival Gary Oak, blah blah blah. I had heard it so many times that I could write a book on my dad's life. I could also write an equally long book on my dad's inability to readjust to normal life.

"Whatever, dad," I muttered.

"Ah! Look at the time!" Dad cried, looking at the Pokball-shaped clock on the wall. "We've got to go see Professor Oak and get you a starter!" He grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me out the door.

"Dad, Professor Oak passed away three years ago, remember?" I reminded him as I was dragged out of the house, but dad was beyond hearing me. I watched the childish light enter his eyes as the too-small backpack bounced on his bag as he tried to half-run, half-jog to the lab where the new professor, Professor Maple, works.

I followed dad through the tiny town until we reached the huge lab on the hill. A crowd of people was already waiting there which the other ten-year-olds who already got their starters.

"I got Chikorita!" one kid said proudly, holding up a Pokball.

"Look, mommy! I chose Torchic!" another said.

"I got Oshawott!"

The endless chatter of happy kids excited to be trainers was annoying. I wanted to run back home and pretend that this was all just a dream. But the closer we got to the lab I began to slowly accept that this was real.

"It's so exciting, isn't it?" dad said to me, leading me up the long walkway to the lab. "Just think, choosing your first Pokémon is the starting of the first step to an even greater journey. This will be your first partner and you'll create an unbreakable bond with them. You'll want to be the very best, that no one ever was. To catch them is your real test, to train them is your cause. You'll travel across the land, searching far and wide. Each Pokémon to understand the power that's inside—"

"No! Not this again, dad!" I snapped, startling my dad and Pikachu.

"O-Ok…" he muttered and fell into dejected silence until we reached the lab.

"Hello, ," Professor Maple greeted us as we walked into the lab. Her orange hair was pilled high onto her head and tied in a tight bun, the same color of maples in autumn. "You must be June Ketchum."

Some days I really wish my name _wasn't _June Ketchum. "Yes…" I muttered.

"So are you ready to choose a Pokémon that will be your faithful companion as you work to fill up the Pokedex and see different Pokémon all over the world?" This woman is just as bad as my dad.

"Not really…"

"That's ok. Everyone is apprehensive at first to start such a big journey," Professor Maple went on.

"Sure…" She's not getting it.

"Alright, here are your starter choices." She gestured to the rows of red and white Pokballs. There were fifteen Pokballs all lined up neatly on a table. This was like a nightmare I had once. When I was younger my dad tried to teach me all the different types of Pokballs and I had nightmares about being trapped in Pokballs for weeks.

"Go on, choose," dad told me urging me forward.

I didn't want to choose, but it didn't look out like I was going to get out of this. I wasn't going to leave this place without a Pokémon. There were so many choices and it felt like there was no good solution to this situation that was already bad. I still didn't know which one I should choose. If I was going to choose one I'd want one that was powerful so that I wouldn't struggle any more than I was going to on this journey. But then again I didn't want to choose solely on power—dad had taught me that.

That was one of the few things I actually listened to.

"I guess I'll take this one…" I sighed and pointed to the one in the middle.

"A fire-type, eh?" Professor Maple picked up the Pokball and handed it to me.

"Oh boy…" I said sarcastically.

"You choose Cyndaquil. Congratulations." I heard the professor say. The Pokball opened and a tiny green and tan Pokémon jumped out. Flames glowed along the Cyndaquil's back as it sat on the ground.

"Cyndaquil!" it said, looking up at me with adoration. Great, something else that will follow me around.

"Now you'll begin your journey as a Pokémon trainer," the professor told me and handed me a red Pokedex. I took it wordlessly, staring at it dismally. Now there really was no going back.

"Here, June," dad turned to me holding his backpack, "I want you to have this. It was mine when I traveled around. There's a map in there, running shoes, a fishing pole, Pokballs, HM and TM case, medicine, and other stuff." He pushed it into my hands before I could protest.

"Thanks…dad…" I muttered, my shoulders heavy. I couldn't return his enthusiasm, but I forced a smile. It hurt.

"Do you want me to explain how the running shoes work?" he offered.

"No, dad, I think I got it," I told him and slung the backpack over my shoulders. It was heavy—I mean really heavy. Did my dad walk around with this thing stuffed to the brim with stuff? Then again, I wouldn't put it past my dad; he's the one who sometimes leaves the house saying he's going to catch Pokémon and won't come back for a few days.

"Here's your trainer card and Xtransciever." Without a word I accept the flat plastic card with my name on it and the black watch with a big screen on it. "The trainer card will keep track of your money and give you license as a trainer. The Xtransciever will allow you to call me and anyone else you meet on your journeys. Do you have any questions? I'm sure the daughter of the famous Ash Ketchum knows everything about training Pokémon, right?" Professor Maple commented with a broad smile that made me want to hide.

This is how it always is. People always assume I love Pokémon or that I'm some great trainer because of my dad's legacy. Everyone knows my dad and then they push all these great expectations on me, expecting me to be like him. I'm not like him. I'm not some great Pokémon trainer who wants to be a master. I don't like Pokémon. I just want to be a normal kid and become a doctor—something that doesn't deal with Pokémon. But no one gets that.

"Yup! I taught my daughter well!" dad proclaimed proudly.

"That's good to hear," Professor Maple said. "Well, you'd better get started now. I have to help another new trainer begin their journey."

"Ok, let's get going, June." Dad took me by the shoulder and led me out of the lab. The Cyndaquil waddled after me, its flames burning brightly as it tried to keep up. "So where are we going, first, June?" dad asked me.

"Uh, dad…this is supposed to be my journey. You're not coming with me…" I informed him, watching him cautiously.

"Oh…yeah…" he muttered, his shoulders sagging a bit. I saw a confused look cross his eyes as he realized that he wasn't going to be coming with me. I felt bad for a moment and then I felt angry—angry that my dad still couldn't accept that he was no longer a Pokémon trainer. He had to accept it sooner or later.

"Well, I guess I'll be going now…" I said and began slowly walking towards the edge of Pallet town. I was secretly hoping that maybe my dad would have a sudden realization and want me to forget the whole training Pokémon thing and let me pursue my dream. But that wasn't going to happen.

"Stay safe, June." Dad suddenly pulled me into a hug, wrapping his big arms around me. "I'll miss you so much." He said that to me so lovingly, more lovingly then I've ever heard him before. I felt tears stinging my eyes. No matter how weird or delusional my dad was, he was still my dad. And I was going to be leaving him alone to go off on this journey that I didn't even want to go on.

"I'll miss you too, dad," I choked.

"Now, be sure that you're careful in tall grass. That's where the Pokémon will be," he told me, saying the words I had always heard as a kid.

"Yes, dad." Was all I could say.

"And make sure that you take good care of your Pokémon. Don't let them faint and make sure that you have lots of medicine. Be smart when battling other trainers—I wasn't so good with the technical aspect of fighting, but you're smarter than I am. And be careful in caves and surfing."

"I will, dad, I promise," I said.

"Alright, kiddo, go out and become a Pokémon master," he said and broke away from out hug. His eyes were misty; so were mine.

"Goodbye, dad," I said and turned away. Even though he was happy for me, I wasn't happy. This wasn't a journey I was taking by choice no matter how I looked at it. As I passed our house I grabbed my bike and began peddling away. Behind me I couldn't hear my dad calling out his final greetings and advice to me. At my side was Cyndaquil in its Pokball. This thing will be my traveling companion for who knows how long.

"Well, if it isn't little June Ketchum?" I froze at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Ryan Oak. What do you want?" I sighed, looking at the smug face of the blonde boy leaning lazily against a tree outside the town. This was Gray Oak's son—my dad's rival. I had nothing against this kid, but he was super arrogant and annoying—just like his dad was, at least according to my dad. Father like son I guess. Figures he would be a trainer too.

"I guess you're taking after you daddy, huh? You going to become another pathetic loser like your dad?" he asked, tossing his Pokball in the air.

"My dad is not a pathetic loser. If you remember he was a Pokémon master, Ryan," I snapped, growing defensive. I knew that not everyone saw my dad as a great person and that people saw him as slightly crazy, but I still got defensive when people called my dad crazy. They had no right to call him that; I was the only one who could.

"_Was_," he informed me. "He's just a has been who can't accept that his time has passed now. I'm going to become a better Pokémon master than anyone else, so you'd better just go right back home and stay with your crazy old man. No one will be able to beat me and my Totodile!"

"Yeah? I bet I can take you!" I told him hotly. How dare he insult my dad? I was seriously close to pounding that smug smile off his ugly face. I knew I could—I had done it before numerous times when he had called my dad names. He knew I could too, but he was just acting tough.

"Sure. I have a water-type and you have a fire-type. Water beats fire, remember?"

"How do you know what kind of Pokémon I got?" I questioned accusingly.

"I like to know the state of the competition," Ryan replied.

"So you were peeking like a pervert?" I translated.

His face got red for a moment and a dark scowl crossed his face. "Was not!"

"Sounds like it to me," I muttered, growing irritated.

"Whatever! I'm still going to become a better Pokemon master than you ever will!" he shouted at me.

"I don't care."

"Yeah you do! You're scared that I'm better than you."

"You're not better than me," I told him flatly.

"Yes I am. I'm so much better than you will ever be!" he continued confidently.

"Yeah? Then prove it," I challenged, feeling my blood boiling to dangerous levels. If I had more Pokémon I'd challenge him to a battle right here, but I knew my fire-type would most likely lose against his water-type. I wasn't that stupid. Maybe if I had a large enough stick I could just beat him senseless.

"I will. I'll get all the badges from all the regions and defeat all the champions. And then I'll capture all the legendries and then you'll acknowledge me as the greatest Pokémon master ever!" Ryan declared with fire burning in his blue eyes. "I'll make your dad look like an even crazier old man!"

"Just you try! I'll become a greater Pokémon master before you!" The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. Oh no, I thought, what had I just done? I didn't want to become a Pokémon master but I couldn't just let Ryan mock my dad and I like that.

"Deal! First one to become Pokémon master wins!" he sneered.

"Fine then!" I spat back and pedaled away, leaving him choking in the dust. "Hope you like walking to the next town, Oak!"

"Just you wait, Ketchum!" I heard him shout from way behind me.

No, just _you _wait, Oak! I'll show you. I don't like Pokémon, I never will, but I'll become a Pokémon master just so I can rub it in your fat snobby face. I won't become like my dad; I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing this for myself so that I can choose my own path. I thought these things as I peddled fast into the horizon where the fast world of Pokémon lay before me.

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Well, there's chapter one. So, how was it? Well, chapter two should come...whenever it comes.


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